Children
by Angel Starbeam
Summary: A collection of one-shots dealing with Arthur's and Gwen's children, and Merlin's and whoever else I had decided to give progeny to.
1. Bedtime Story

TITLE: Bedtime Story  
AUTHOR: Angel Starbeam  
SUMMARY: A young prince wishes for a story, so his brother tells of the abduction of a handmaiden and her friends to the rescue. This is a much altered recount of Lancelot and Guinevere.  
RATING: PG

* * *

It was way into the night, so it was quite dark with exception being light from the crescent moon and the gleaming stars. People would have to have a sufficient reason to be still up at this hour, much less wake up to it. In a rather large bed chamber and lying comfortably in a four poster bed, one adolescent boy had no reason. But he did wake up.

As he woke up, he knew someone else was in the room, because this someone had shaken him awake and was still at it.

He finally opened his eyes with a growl emitted from his throat. Blurry black met clear blue. His sight focused and saw his assaulter and owner of the blue eyes was a small tow-headed boy unimpressed by his growl.

"Gwy," the older boy narrowed his eyes, "you're supposed to be in bed."

"I can't sleep," Gwy replied, though his proper name was Gwydre.

"So I can't sleep neither?"

Gwydre gave a curt nod, "I want a story. Amhar, please tell me a story."

Amhar's frown deepened, but it did little good. He knew how his younger brother was like when he was restless and excited, which he had been this past month or so. He demanded attention and was a very determine child, as polite people would say. Others, who were at their wits end, say he is pig stubborn and a right terror. He will not go back to bed until he has had that story.

Actually, Amhar was glad Gwy did not go to and wake their parents. The new babe was due any day now and Father wanted Mother to rest as much as possible.

Amhar prayed to all and any gods and goddesses that the next one will be a nice quiet sibling.

"Right then, story time, then to bed," Amhar confirmed with relish.

Gwy, pleased with himself, climb onto the bed. Amhar scooted over as his little brother made himself comfortable. As soon as he did, he looked expectantly at his eldest brother.

Right then, what story to tell him?

Amhar searched through his drowsy mind for a tale to tell. He briefly wished that Gwydre bothered Jack for a bedtime story instead of him. Jack- Llecheu- his brother in crime and blood, knew thousands of stories thanks to those dusty old books and scrolls. He was fond of them as much as he was for his sword lessons and hunting. Amhar saw their value but much more keen on doing things and learning on his own.

And he did know plenty of stories- fantastic accounts by Merlin, quiet and prideful lectures on Camelot by Father, fairy stories by Mother. He just had to choose one that will entertain Gwy and lull him to sleep. Then a thought came to him and he went with it.

He began, "Once, there was a handmaiden. She was very kind and was loved by everyone.

One day, she was traveling with a noble lady, when they were attacked by bandits and took them away. With the handmaiden's help, the noble lady was able to escape and return to the kingdom."

"Why did the bandits do that to the girls?" Gwy asked.

"Because they're bad men and they like to cause trouble for everyone." Amhar quickly replied, "Now where were we-yes.

The noble lady told the handmaiden's other friends, the prince and the sorcerer, what had happened and they set off to rescue her. The handmaiden was taken to the bandits' castle, where everyone was a villainous cutthroat. They were all ruled by an evil lord.

'I'm going to keep you,' said the evil lord, 'and if you cross me, I'll throw you to the wildren.'"

"What's that?" Gwydre interrupted again.

"Giant bald rat creatures. They like to eat humans." Amhar wanted to clamp Gwy's mouth shut but since that will only make things worse, he decided against it, "You see, they had one trapped in a tunnel, where both openings were closed off by an iron gate. The tunnel led out to a big cage made of strong wood that was in the throne room. So whenever the bandits wanted to see someone get eaten by the wildren, all they had to do was thrown them in the cage and let the beast out.

Well, the handmaiden was in her dingy cell and feeling frighten and rather cross herself. She then heard someone calling her name. She looked over at the cell window and saw a swordsman, another friend of hers."

"She has a lot of friends."

"I told you, everyone loved her. The only people who did not were evil," Amhar said, now thoroughly irritated, "Now stop interrupting me.

Anyway, the handmaiden asked the swordsman, 'Why are you here?'

The swordsman, 'I couldn't find any work and ended up being the bandits' slave. I hate myself.'

The handmaiden did not like that, so she said, 'You are a good man. You can do better than this.'

The swordsman needed to hear that and stopped feeling sorry for himself. He and the handmaiden then planned their escape.

Meanwhile, the prince and the sorcerer got to the mountains where the castle was on the other side. They knew that the fastest way to get there was to go through the Tunnels of Andor. This was dangerous because wildren lived there. The thing about wildren though, is that they are blind as newborn pups and could only hunt by their sense of smell. The prince found some found a bush of foul smelling berries and he covered himself and the sorcerer with the juice so to throw off their scent.

They then went into the tunnels. There, a wildren came by and got close- right in front of them in fact- but because of the berry juice, it couldn't tell that they were humans and left.

Once they got out of the tunnels, they found the castle. They climb the walls and snuck inside. Inside, they saw that all the bandits were gathered in the throne room and the swordsman and handmaid were tied up in the cage-

"What?" Gwydre cut off, confused.

Amhar smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, my fault. The swordsman and the handmaiden were able to escape but got caught, were tied up and thrown in the cage.

Anyway, the wildren was about to eat them when the prince jumped in the cage. He cut off the rope and he and the swordsman fought the beast. The evil lord, now very cross, decided to kill them all with his crossbow. The sorcerer saw this and stopped it by having a chandelier almost fall right on top of the lord. He then jumped in the cage because it was the only place the bandits would not follow him.

The prince then led them all into the tunnel. The evil lord, not wanting them to escape, went in the cage to stop them but the sorcerer closed the gate. This trapped the lord with the wildren and it ate him.

The friends were able to escape the tunnel. The swordsman, feeling a lot better about himself, left on his own so to do good deeds. He became one of the most legendary knights of all time. Back at the kingdom, the prince and the handmaiden saw that they really loved each other and got married. When they got to be king and queen, they ruled justly and loved by all their people. The sorcerer got to be their top advisor and finally got that nap he wanted. And…"

Amhar noticed Gwy's closed eyes.

"Lived happy ever after?" Gwydre then asked droopily.

"They turned out alright."

Amhar smiled as sleep took over Gwy. With his brother asleep and given silence, became lost in his thoughts. The story of his mother's abduction after being mistaken as the king's ward was told to him recently. During a lesson, Merlin told him about the uses of gaia berries. After some prodding, he told him how Father thought of it while they were on their way to rescue Mother.

Amhar had a feeling the version he got was edited, not as much as the extremely simplified tale he just told Gwydre. Jack once said how there many stories within just one. What about all those bandits' stories, how did the swordsman come upon the evil lord, how did they capture a wildren?

There's probably a story as to why Merlin was so cautious in his telling the account to him.

Gwydre was now deep in sleep. Amhar carefully got out of bed and scooped up his little brother. Gwy moved a bit as he rested his head onto Amhar's shoulder and he made way to take him back to his own bed.

As he said, everything turned out alright.


	2. Birth of a Prince

Birth of a Prince

* * *

It was evening when the queen clenched her swollen belly and gasped in pain, signaling that the child within wanted out. She was whisked off to the bedchambers while her husband the king, for all his authority, was banned from the chambers by a steely-eyed midwife.

As the labor dragged, servants and nobles alike spread the news. The kingdom about their business but their queen was on their minds and the more excitable ones gathered in the courtyard waiting for any news.

Meanwhile, the queen was drenched in sweat, her voice gone hoarse from screaming, and tired from the pain, the feeling of being torn in half. The king was grudgingly waited in a separate chamber, accepting only reports on his queen's progress.

Then it all stopped. By dawn, as the sun's rays lighten the sky, a different cry came from the chambers. It announced that someone new had arrived.

A son had been born.

---

"He's small," a young boy piped up. His clear blue eyes were fixed on the ruddy race mewling infant bundled up and wriggling peacefully in the crib, which was surrounded by him and two other boys.

"You were smaller," retorted an elder boy.

"Was not!" the child turned to glare at him. The elder simply rolled his own dark eyes.

"You were Gwy," blithely said the eldest of all three boys, "Father could hold you with one hand."

"Still can," their father stepped in. To prove so, he effortlessly lifted Gwydre with his right hand and swung him into his arms as the child yelped in surprise and delight.

"I'm not the littlest anymore. He is," Gwydre pointed to his new brother, happy to pass down the title.

"That's right, Duran is your little brother," Arthur explained, "He's going to need you."

"For what?" Gwydre questioned, "He's doesn't do much. Just sleep and cry. Looks boring."

"He's about three hours old. Give him time." Arthur said, "Then you can teach all sorts of things. Such as jousting, hunting, how to terrorize your brothers…"

His elder boys turn their heads to Arthur with identical grimaces.

"And you two can teach him the value of respecting his elders," he quipped with a smile.

"Jack can put him to sleep with his books," Amhar joked. As the eldest, he was used to having new siblings to "teach" and exchange loving insults with.

Jack- Llacheu- only hummed a response, since he was paying no attention to the conversation. He had curiously stuck out a finger to Duran's grasping little hands. His eyes widen when one hand caught the finger and held on tightly.

Arthur had to admit the difference between his sons, and how it went farther than looks. Amhar and Jack both took on their mother's dark hair and eyes; except Amhar's skin was a shade lighter and Jack's only curls fell after his first year. Both were good and responsible, and kind boys whom loved to hunt and swordplay. Yet Amhar was outgoing, quite optimistic and relished in the woodlands while Jack was a quiet and reserved soul who preferred to read about ancient myths and philosophies.

Then there was Gwydre, who inherited many of his own features to a point that many say that Gwy was his doppelganger. And apparently, he caused the same amount of trouble. While Gwydre was nowhere near the spoiled brat Arthur was, he was very energetic, and relentless, and demanded a lot of attention.

And now here was Duran, with a head of glossy curls and apparent liking to grabbing things.

Jack shook Duran's hand and with a deadpanned tone said, "Hello Duran."

Duran let go of Jack's finger a moment later, scrunched his face further with a yawn and fell promptly to sleep.

"Come on," Arthur whispered, "let's go back to your mother."

With Gwydre still in his arms, he led the older two out of the nursery and into the connecting chamber where Gwen was resting in their bed. Her eyes opened once they all entered and smiled at the sight of them.

"What do you think of your new brother?" She drowsily asked.

Arthur let down Gwydre, and the boy ran to his mother's side. With a somber expression and uncharacteristic gentleness to her, he replied, "He's very small."

"He has a strong grip," said Jack as he and Amhar joined their younger sibling at their mother's bedside.

"He's a right terror Mother," Amhar grinned as Gwen laughed lightly.

"Alright, let your mother rest now." said Arthur.

"First a kiss," Gwen sat up tentatively.

The boys all quickly peck their mother on the cheek. Quiet talk of affections and swift questioning of well being were exchanged. The door then knocked, and opened to reveal Merlin with Sir Griflet, the one guarding the door, at his side.

"Merlin your timing is perfect for once," said Arthur, "take the boys to my study. I'll join you in a bit."

"Right," Merlin, letting Arthur's taunt go, "The council wants to see you." "They can wait."

"They'll forgive you, with that sunny personality of yours." Merlin led the boys out, "Hey, Gwy lets go annoy Lord Rynor."

Arthur shook his head when he heard Gwydre's thrilled acceptance.

He then turned to Gwen, still with a soft smile.

"So they think of Duran fondly?" She playfully asked as Arthur went over to her.

"Well, Jack is impressed but Gwydre finds him boring."

They both laughed and he took her hand into his.

"It will get very interesting soon I suppose," Arthur continued, "Now that we have four of them. We have been outnumbered"

"Your fault." Gwen teasingly accused.

"What?"

"You wanted a big family. 'An army,' was your request." explained Gwen, her smile now a large grin.

"Four is hardly an army. And you encouraged it." Arthur countered, trying not to laugh too hard.

"They won't be lonely at least," Gwen sobered up.

They looked at each other. Arthur had thought of his elder three sons, his years with them along with learning how to be their father. How he will learn to be a father to this new little one. He thought of Guinevere, how good a mother she was and how amazed he was with her every time she bear them and brought them into this world. How much he loved her.

"Love you," he admitted.

"Love you too."

A cry then came across their ears, signaling that Duran wanted what he vaguely recognized as "Mother."

"I'll get him," Arthur got up and walked over the nursery.

* * *

AN: I had some ideas of how to do a "baby" fic, like Arthur holding Amhar for the first time, Gwen getting ill after a difficult labor (one was an extemely sad scenario in which they loose a daughter) and figured to do one in which the elder brothers weighed in on the new kid.

Please Review, it will make so many people (who live in my head) so happy.


	3. The Water

The Water

* * *

There was a cool crisp in the air, making everything feel fresh and the sun's rays reflected gold flickers on deep gray blue ripples of the lake. Merlin reflected as well on the one who rested beneath the waters.

He never had forgotten Freya. She was, he believed, his first love. How he loved her- fast and hard, with all sense gone. So willing he was to leave everything behind and make a life with her, having his destiny to wait.

Destiny, it seemed, dragged him back on the path, so he never deterred from it again.

Still, he made it a point to visit the lake, visit Freya, once a year, every year.

He usually went alone, but not this year. His companion had wandered off though.

Merlin's eyes searched the area for the wondering companion, and quickly saw a figure near the coastline. It was a little girl, crouching over the water as she stood so near to the edge.

He ran over to her, "Vivianne."

Vivianne kept her studious gaze on the water, taking no notice of Merlin flop to the ground next to her.

"What are you doing?" Merlin asked.

The small girl broke out of her reverie a bit, "Learning Da."

"Learning what love?"

"How to talk to water, ask it what to do," Vivianne then held out her small hand, stretching out her fingers.

"Talk to water?" Merlin quipped in an amused tone, smiled as Vivianne nodded enthusiastically in reply.

But Merlin did not take it lightly. He had planned to educate his daughter in magic when she was older, much older. But she was like him, showing signs of magic early and Morgana's blasted intervening did not help. He was cautious in her training, making sure they did not take things too fast or too much for her to handle, and made sure she was supervised at all times.

"Vivi," Merlin said the pet name warily (Funny, he wanted to name her after his mother or a flower of sorts, but Nivian was adamant that they give their girl her name), "Are you listening to the water all by yourself?"

"I have a teacher." Vivianne's eyes squinted in concentration.

"A teacher?"

"Yes Da," Vivianne answered, "She's really nice. She's teaching me all about water talk and listening. She says I'm doing good."

It was then a circle of ripples came on the water's surface and instead of going out, they went into a single point in the middle. The middle then lumped together and grew, until a large water drop popped out and it steadily floated above.

"I did it Da! I did it!"

Vivianne whipped her head to him, her black hair flying and her mouth grinning widely. Merlin saw her eyes were flashing a lighting hotwhite before returning to the usually deep blue.

Now he was really worried.

"Who is your teacher Vivianne?"

Vivianne was oblivious to her father's troubled face yet replied, "Her name is Freya."

The water drop then twinkled and Merlin knew he heard his name by a voice he had not heard in long time.


	4. Twins

Twins

Since leaving Camelot, Morgana had learned about pain, actual pain. As a noble lady and the king's ward, she had experienced little. Now she had experienced pain that affected the body as well as the soul.

But this latest experience, it was very painful and petrifying – and she was so tired after yet she never felt so satisfied and undoubtedly happy.

She watched as her sister blessed her newborn daughters, and in that moment she felt she could anything. After she had a nap.

"Look who wants to meet their mother," Morgause cooed as she placed one little girl in her mother's eager arms.

The past pain was forgotten once she held one of her daughters. Her daughters were so tiny and perfect, with pink skin and tufts of pale hair, a feature past down from their father. She wondered if they were also to have Urien's stormy grey eyes.

"What will you be naming them?"

Morgana smiled at the daughter in her arms, "This one will be Morfydd, after the goddess."

She then looked up to see the second born squirming in Morgause's arms

"And you," she said tenderly, "You will be named Gwenhwyfar, after a friend most dear to me."

"They will bring greatness and honor to these names," said Morgause with no clear emotion except for pride.


	5. Quest of the Holy Quail

Quest of the Holy Quail

As King, Arthur was to see that his kingdom was running smoothly and everyone was doing what they were supposed to do. But then Guinevere told him that Viviane was late in bringing Duran in for his nap, and then Sir Pellinore grumbled how his two elder sons were not in the library for their lessons and finally Merlin remarked that Amhar was missing. He knew that five children were off somewhere else and so he, as king and father, had to go fetch them.

Arthur finally went into one of the unused parlors when he spotted his goddaughter holding a net.

It had been raining for the better part of the week which meant that the boys were cooped up in the castle. Seeing as the rest of the castle was more than a little occupied, Arthur had given the task of entertaining the youngsters to the seemingly capable hands of Viviane and Amhar.

"Viviane, what the devil is going on? " He said with more harshness than he intended.

"Hello Uncle," she only replied.

Viviane was hovering over Duran who was on his knees and looking underneath a wardrobe. His brothers Amhar and Gwydre were not far off, but appeared more professional as they hunted whatever beast they were after this time. He amusingly observed how Jack was stood far back, holding a small book- holding it in such a way so that one finger stuck in between the pages to mark the page he was reading.

Arthur then returned his attention to Viviane, "Viviane…"

"Well, you see Uncle," Viviane dropped the net tersely on the floor, "- Jack was reading us some story about questing and the little ones, Gwy and Duran, became curious so he started explaining the whole affair. Then they got excited and they've been awfully restless-"

Arthur stuck up a hand, motioning for her to discontinue her babbling which she did promptly. The girl could talk forever (much like her father) but she understood when to stop.

He then pointed to his youngest child, "Duran, what are you doing?"

"Questing Father!" Duran answered with glee and picked up the long-handled net with wobbly effort.

"Questing?"

"It's the Quest for the Holy Quail," Viviane clarified with just the subtlest hint of sarcasm.

"Quest for the what?" Arthur was more baffled.

"The Holy Quail!" Gwydre called out.

"Jack came up with the name," Viviane continued as she took the net back from a pouting Duran.

"Why?"

"Because 'Chase the Fowl' sounded stupid," Jack replied with a hint of exasperation.

"We're hunting for the quail- two teams. Whoever catches it gets to choose the next game," Amhar said. His eldest son was, as expected, devoted to his brothers and had no problem thinking up or even playing "childish" games.

"What are you?" Arthur asked Jack.

"Referee." Jack replied, nonchalant.

"And, uh, why a quail?"

"It was all we had at hand."

"...Where did you get it?"

"Oh, me," Viviane picked up Duran so he could peek over the overhang.

"Ah, you wouldn't happen to be using the quail we had given to your father for dinner, would you?"

Viviane began to form a reply, but chose instead to clamp her mouth shut, shrug, and smiled sheepishly.

"Viviane, you're too old to play with your food." Arthur reprimanded tonelessly.

"Bird!" Duran yelled, pointed to the window sill. Everyone turned there and saw their prize flapping in and perched onto the sill.

The Holy Quail appeared to be a gray-feathered, plump bird donning a small paper hat. Arthur was torn between bafflement at the lengths to which the game had been taken, and curiosity at how one went about attaching a paper hat to a fowl.

They, however, were not the only ones who caught sight of the bird, as The Feathered Holiness' dramatic entrance was ruined by the swipe of a paw, which it fortunately managed to dodge.

"Mim!" Jack cried out to his pet cat.

As Mim the cat chased The Holy Quail, the children chased after her. Duran was jumping strides with Viviane and her net close by, unsuccessfully trying to trap either one of the beasts. Jack was focused on his cat, his book firmly in his hand and page still marked. Amhar, with all his skills in hunting, was no better since he was busy keeping Gwydre from knocking over a vessel or running into the others. Arthur simply stood in the near middle of the parlor and watched the entire spectacle, waiting for an opportunity to act on and still wondering about the paper hat.

The bird then made the poor choice to try and fly past Arthur's shoulder and was shocked to find itself caught by the neck. As the bird struggled in his grasp, Arthur motioned for the cage.

Amhar came running with the requisite cage (in what Arthur supposed was an attempt at valiance) and the Holy Quail was swiftly thrown back in to its wicker prison.

Jack whistled Mim over and she obediently, if not dejectedly, plodded to his feet.

"Since it was I who caught its...Holiness, I choose the activities. Amhar, it is time for your lessons with Merlin; Viviane, please take Duran to Guinevere, it's high time for his nap; Jack, you and Gwydre head to the library for your lessons with Sir Pallinore."

The children dispersed, although not without some grumbling.

"The Holy Quail?" Arthur seemingly demanded of Amhar as they left the parlor and walked down the corridor.

"Well, Merlin suggested we have Mim play a dragon which we would then slay, but Jack wasn't having it."

Arthur swore he could hear the wizard's sniggering from where he stood.


	6. Blacksmith

**Blacksmith**

**

* * *

**

Since she was a blacksmith's daughter, it was proper for Gwen to learn about her father's trade. After all, her most likely future was probably to become a blacksmith's wife, and so she will have to know such things to assist her husband.

However, it was not proper for her to don a leather vest and gloves, stoke up the fires and actually smith.

But Tom did teach her, and taught her well. He saw no reason not to teach Gwen. That's how it was done- he was taught by his father, so why should he stop just because he had a daughter?

Gwen was grateful he did so- everything her father had taught her, she found valuable. She had used those skills in number of occasions. So as her father had taught her, Gwen taught to her own sons. Many were aghast at this, finding the whole thing scandalous and completely barmy. They have questioned on what the king thought of the princes spending their days in a smoke-filled dirty forge and learning how to smith.

Gwen found this amusing- it was Arthur's idea.

Learning the basics of the trade would be good for the boys. They would know how to repair armor and weapons should the need arise. It would also help them be aware of the work put into making the things they use every day. And it was their mother's heritage they were learning and be proud of.

Her sons could be proud of her and their grandfather Tom, the forger of Excalibur.

Gwen would talk about Tom during these lessons. How he did his work, the good times they had, and the kind of the father he was.

The boys craved these discussions- they were curious about their grandfather. To hear their mother to talk about her father so earnestly and readily, to be connected in that way, was enough to look forward to the sessions.

To the actual learning of the trade, well, her boys could be decent blacksmiths, perfectly qualified to do their own repair work and inspect metal work, but they all took to it differently. With her first three, the lessons stopped after a few years.

Amhar appreciated the practical sense of it; Jack had an intellectual curiosity about it; and Gwydre desired only the end result.

Duran, her youngest however, loved the process, the feel of the steel and ash, and fire, the melting and cooling of the metal and its taking shape.

When she showed him how to forge a sword, Duran had a studious gaze, enthusiastic for the lesson that was absent in his brothers. He readily took the tools to follow her example, cautious in his movements and listen to her advice.

Once done, he showed her his first sword. She inspected it with keen eyes.

She remembered how her first sword was a bit off balanced. Duran managed to make the blade smooth, but the handle was slightly off centered.

It was good first try.


	7. Lazy Day

**Title:** Lazy Day

**Author: **Angel Starbeam

**Disclaimer: **BBC owns Merlin. All of Britain owns the myth.

* * *

It was a rather unusual day. There was a clear blue sky and the sun shone brightly, and emitting enough heat for people to seek cooler accommodations. There were also no meetings to attend, no petitions to oversee, no crisis to solve, and no work at all that needed to be done today, now, this second. In plainest terms, King Arthur and Queen Guinevere of Camelot had a day off.

Taking advantage of the phenomenon, Arthur suggested that they go to the wading pools located close to the center of the castle gardens. Gwen agreed to the outing that ended up being a small and spontaneous picnic. The husband and wife soon relaxed under the shade of the flowering trees and lay near the one of the pools.

Gwen then laid her head on Arthur's lap, yawning slightly and her eyes half closed. Arthur smiled and his hand moved from her loose curls to her rounded middle with the softest caress. The sleep, happy pair listened to the chirping of birds and the lapping of water. They smelled the blossoming flowers and the overall warmed pleasantness of the day. They the saw a great multitude of flower petals scattered and gliding across the water's surface…

And then they saw a stark naked boy jumping into the pool and splashing about.

Now very much awake, Gwen erected herself off from her resting place as she and her husband saw their current youngest having the grandest of time. Their two elder boys came running, the eldest holding a bundle of garments, apologizing and explaining how their little brother got in into his head to go for a swim and not ruin his clothes.

Arthur and Gwen looked to each other. A moment and a shared exasperated sigh later, Arthur got up and went to fetch their youngest.

Word count: 305


	8. I Can Fly!

**I Can Fly!**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Merlin. BBC does.

* * *

"I can track down a hawk on a cloudy day, how is it that I cannot find my own son?"

"Maybe you're lacking the right motivation. I mean, you're not going to shoot down Amhar?"

Arthur opted for a moment to murder Merlin, and then said, "You're the all powerful wizard! Chant something!"

It was then they heard a giggle.

Arthur's ear led him to the next room. The two men then ran in and soon found themselves in mounds of fabric and thread, for it was the seamstress room.

Furniture was tossed and fabric rolls were pushed away until Arthur noticed his son's face, smiling.

"Amhar!" Arthur saw his tiny son up on a self ten feet above him.

Amhar jubilantly waved to his father, "Hi Daddy!"

"How'd he get up there?" Merlin questioned.

"Get him down!"

"Alright. Amhar, want to fly?"

"Yes!"

"Stand still." Merlin whispered and his eyes flashed gold and the young prince was lifted by gold dust and he cried in exhilaration of flying.

He landed safely in his father's arms.

"Let's play another game. Shall we?"

"But he's really getting the hang of Hide-and-Go-Seek. Aren't we Amhar?"

Amhar laughed along with Merlin and begged his father to count again.

"How about a new game?" Arthur countered, "It's called 'How Fast Can Merlin Run'?"


	9. Tell Us a Tale

**Tell Us a Tale**  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Merlin, BBC does.

* * *

"And then happen Uncle Gwaine?" asked a wide eyed boy of seven.

Sir Gwaine smiled as he spread out his arms, "Well, he was this big and I..."

His friend, Sir Lancelot, a usually hope strung fellow, felt his eyes rolling, "You are aware that this was constructed from a drunken mind?"

He was not talking to the two boys, the Prince Duran and his son Galahad, who were rapt in attention with the grand tale, but to Duran's elder brother who was listening with a shrewd smile.

"I know," Llacheu said, "But we all preferred Gwaine's version."

Lancelot could not help but chuckle. The two then settled in as Gwaine finished his version of an "adventure" he and Lancelot had. One that included a barmaid, an innumerable amounts of thugs and a griffin. Gwaine left out the barmaid though.

"What to hear how I helped your father and Merlin with the Fisher King?" Gwaine then asked.

The boys bounced from their feet and gleefully and in unison replied, "Yes."

"So there I was having a peaceful moment and enjoying good company..."


	10. And He Shall Be Called

_**And He Shall Be Called  
**_**Disclaimer:** I don't own Merlin, BBC does.  
**AN**: This is becoming an AU

* * *

"Felim?"

"No"

"Baldric?"

"No."

"Camden?"

Arthur felt a sliver of hope from relief as Gwen, his dear Gwen, had a pensive look on her face, and maybe she will agree…

With a resolute tone and an admirably sincere expression she replied, "No."

Arthur groaned his frustration and slammed down the parchment, and hung his head in despair (well not despair, displeasure maybe).

"Guinevere…"

Gwen put down her sowing (after all this time she still darn socks and mended shirts), "You said to be completely honest in my liking the choices or not."

Arthur looked up to catch her gaze, "You have rejected every name on this list."

"Do not be so dramatic. I liked Alfred."

"I hate Alfred. Sounds like some stuffy old man who keep making up ridiculous tales."

"Then why do you have it on your list?"

"I needed more names starting with _A_." Arthur muttered as he crumpled the useless parchment and threw it a distance away from him.

Gwen sympathetically said, "Arthur if this is taxing on you, why not let me…"

"No. You got to choose last time-"

"Because you could not," Gwen finished.

"Well, I am determine to name our second child."

Gwen smiled and went back to her sowing (she was making an infant gown, which would fit their coming child perfectly since it covered her bulging torso). Arthur also smiled, at first seeing his wife preparing for the future and he kept wondering what to their name their child. He wondered why he decided to do this again, when they were expecting Amhar and he went looking throughout the kingdom to find a suitable name for his firstborn. After an exasperating and fruitless search, he ended up taking Merlin's advice and just left it to Gwen; and so, this time, he will be doing the naming.

"What about Morgan?" He then suggested.

Without looking up from her sowing, Gwen questioned, "Do you want it?"

"Morgan Pendragon? God no. Just thinking maybe it's alright to give the name a fresh start to someone who didn't profane it."

"That's strong. I am sure you will choose a good name for our child."

Arthur smiled, "Thank you."

Gwen, all warmth and kindness, and sternness continued, "And you should consider girl names as well."

Arthur had learn that in naming offspring, originality does not count as much thought and heart one put in. Technically, Amhar was named after him, but Gwen thought it sounded better.

Why not a knight? There had been many good men fought for justice and kingdom. Arthur resolved to choose a name belonging not just to a good swordfighter but an honorable man.

He then came across a tome, and read about one battle where everything went wrong and amidst the chaos a name appeared, the name of which is attached "_A man blameless in his actions and sought the betterment of his people and fought for all that is just."_

And that is how Arthur discovered the name.

As it turned out, Arthur did not have to consider girl names. A healthy boy arrived, and he was name by his father Llacheu.

"Why Llacheu?" Merlin then asked, after meeting his latest sovereign.

"Read it in an old report, had a knight in there who took command after his king fell in battle. Managed to save his whole battalion and the rest of the kingdom. Then he found the heir to the throne and protected him until the coronation."

"Ah, knighthood, chivalry and fighting. Your favorite subjects."

Arthur was about to retaliate, and then felt a tug on his pants' leg. Amhar was curious and wanted to be noticed. Blissfully, the high king picked up his firstborn and had him look upon his new brother.

"Amhar, this is your brother, Llacheu," Arthur introduced him with a gentle voice.

The toddler saw what all the fuss was about, the mewling pink thing that was his sibling. Then his pink sibling yawned and he turned to their father.

"Mine?"

"Your brother," Arthur clarified.

"Bra-tur- brother." Amhar practiced, "JAK-KAI?"

"Llacheu.

Amhar twitched his little nose, "Jak-kai…Jak…Jack!"

Arthur shook his head, "No Amhar, Llacheu."

Amhar was having none of it. He clapped his hands in glee and giggled, proclaiming, "Jack! Jack! Brother!"

Merlin just laughed. Arthur, now a father of two and ruler of a very large kingdom for a long time, only sighed and let his older boy christened his younger.

And so was the naming of Prince Jack. But he was only called Jack by family.


End file.
